by Bill Doyle
Henry was about to try another toss when the zombie rammed the bed again. This time it hit the bed so hard that Henry fell over on the mattress. He quickly got back to his feet.
“Did the bulb break?” Keats asked.
“No, it’s okay,” Henry said. “But the zombie isn’t going to let me get a good throw.”
“All right,” Keats said. “I’ll toss the wand to you.”
At that moment the zombie leapt into the air between Henry and Keats. Its mouth opened and closed with a clack. It hit the floor and kept wriggling around the bed.
“Don’t throw the wand!” Henry shouted. “The zombie will catch it. I think it can understand what we’re saying.”
Keats’s mind raced. Without the bulb he couldn’t make the wand work. What could they do?
The zombie’s circles grew even smaller. Now it was chewing through the edges of the mattress. Bits of stuffing and feathers flew into the air. The garage looked like the site of a crazy pillow fight.
Trying to keep his balance on the bed, Henry bounced from foot to foot. Meanwhile, Keats’s brain bounced from idea to idea.
But he didn’t say any of the ideas out loud. Especially now that he knew the zombie could understand words.
The boys were running out of time. Soon the zombie would eat more of the bed and Henry would be in big trouble. Then the cousins looked right at each other. And a silent idea passed between them.
After a second Henry said, “I’ve got a new World’s Greatest Plan.” He made his voice sound sad. “I’m just going to stay right here and not try to get away.”
The zombie heard this and slowed down. It reminded Keats of a cat that wants to toy with a mouse a little longer.
But there was one thing the zombie didn’t notice, or just didn’t understand. Keats saw it, though.
Henry was scratching his chin.
Keats hoped they both had the same plan. To be sure, he asked, “I guess you’re the one who is chicken now?”
Henry nodded and got ready.
At the same time, the boys said, “Put the cluck right up there or the yolk will hit our hair!”
Blip! Blip! Two chickens popped into the air over the zombie. Flapping their wings, the chickens laid eggs that fell and smashed on the zombie’s face. For the moment it couldn’t see a thing.
Henry moved like a flash. He leapt off the bed, jumping over the zombie. Henry landed next to the workbench and climbed up next to Keats. The chickens fluttered to the floor and vanished with two more clucks.
“Egg-cellent job, cuz,” Keats said.
Henry rolled his eyes at the joke and handed over the bulb. Keats screwed it into the wand.
The zombie wiped a flipper over its eyes, clearing away the egg yolk. It realized that Henry was no longer on the bed. The zombie turned and spotted the boys together.
Like lightning, it wriggled toward them, its jaws opening and clacking shut.
“Let’s say the spell!” Keats shouted. “Now!”
The boys both put a hand on the wand and stood on one foot. They waved the wand at the zombie.
Together they said, “Pause the snapping jaws and zap the zombie from IS to WAS!”
The zombie was just inches away. They waited a heartbeat for something to happen—
And this time something did.
Kablam!
A bright light shot out of the wand, knocking the boys back against the wall. The light hit the zombie with a sizzling sound.
There was a rush of air, too. It was as if someone had just opened a window in the middle of a hurricane.
The boys squeezed their eyes shut against the blast. When they opened them, the creature was gone.
The shark-headed zombie had been zapped!
THE COUSINS GAVE each other high fives.
“We did it!” Henry said. But Keats could barely hear him.
The wind created by the blast from the wand still howled around the garage. Swirling from dusty corner to dusty corner, the whirlwind grew into a small tornado. It was as tall as Henry.
The tornado whipped past Henry and Keats, tugging at them. But they clung to the workbench.
As it spun around the garage, the tornado sucked in all the dirt, the garbage, the chicken eggs, the dead leaves, and even the chewed-up mattress. All the while, the tornado was blowing up like a balloon being stretched too tight.
With a pop! the tornado vanished. The garage was suddenly silent.
The boys climbed off the workbench. They looked around with wide eyes. The garage glittered. The tornado had taken all the dirt and garbage with it. It was as if a crew had swept through and cleaned every inch of the garage.
“Stunner,” Henry said.
Keats pulled out the to-do list.
Weed the garden.
Bring the box of lightbulbs down from the attic.
Battle and defeat the shark-headed zombie.
Sweep the garage.
Lines had been drawn through the top three things on the list. Keats watched as a line ran through the last one.
Sweep the garage.
“We’re done, Henry!” Keats said. “We’ve finished every job on the list!”
Just then a wall in the garage shimmered. A garage door appeared and started to roll up with a rattle.
Bright summer sunshine flooded into the garage. The boys squinted against the light and made their way outside.
“Look,” Henry said. “Someone’s coming.”
They stood at the top of the driveway, watching a car rumble toward them. It was a long black limousine.
“Check it out,” Henry said. “There’s no one driving.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Keats said.
The limo with no driver pulled up next to the boys. A window in the back rolled down. An old man’s face peeked out. He had a pointy white beard under his chin and a pointy white patch of hair on top of his head. It made his face look kind of like a diamond.
“Hello, Henry and Keats!” the man said in a friendly voice.
“Are you Mr. Cigam?” Henry asked.
“That’s right.” The man nodded. “And Hallway House is my house. I told you I would return when the work was done. And here I am.”
Keats had so many questions. He didn’t know where to start. “Are you a magician?” he asked.
“I used to be a great magician,” Mr. Cigam said. He shrugged. “Sorry to say, my magic is not what it once was. I’ve been feeling a little backward lately. And so has Hallway House. It was once filled with so many wonderful things!”
“Now it’s pretty scary,” Henry said.
Mr. Cigam nodded. “I’m trying to fix that. That’s why I put up an ad for people who could work real magic.”
“Wait a second,” Henry said. “When you said ‘looking for someone who can work real magic’—”
“You meant real magic!” Keats finished the sentence.
“Of course,” Mr. Cigam said. “And I can see you boys worked hard. Here’s the payment I promised you.”
The man stuck a bony hand out the limo’s window. He flipped a coin into the air. Henry caught it.
One coin? Keats felt his good mood sink. After all they had gone through for new bikes, they were getting a coin? They couldn’t even buy a spoke for a wheel with that.
“Hold the phone,” Henry said. He was staring at the coin. “That’s gold!”
Keats took a closer look. It was gold!
They could buy the best bikes in the world and still have money left over. Then Keats imagined what their parents would say.
“We can’t take this,” Keats said. “On top of everything else, your house is still pretty messy. Especially the kitchen.”
“Pish,” Mr. Cigam said. “Of course you can take it. I gave you tough jobs to do. That pesky shark-headed zombie made my life miserable for months. You earned it.”
Keats thought for a second. It was true. They had been in real danger. He had lost his baseball cap and jacket in the attic. An
d they had completed everything on the to-do list. Maybe they did deserve the money.
Mr. Cigam and Henry waited for his decision.
“Okay, we’ll take it,” Keats announced. “Thank you.”
“Yes!” Henry said. He pumped his fist in the air.
Keats laughed. “Well …” He didn’t know how to say goodbye to a magician. Was there a special goodbye spell or something? This question about magic reminded Keats that he was still holding the wand.
“Oh!” Keats said. “I almost forgot to give this back. Here.”
He tried to hand the wand to Mr. Cigam.
“What? That old thing?” the old man said, waving it away. “You boys can keep the wand. Just promise to use it properly.”
Henry’s eyes widened. Keats knew what Henry was thinking. He was picturing how he could use the wand to make all of his World’s Greatest Plans come true. Like the one about becoming Hollywood stunt kids.
“I promise to use it the right way,” Henry said. There was a gleam in his eye. And he was scratching his chin.
With a grin, Keats said, “I think I better hold on to the wand for now.”
Mr. Cigam clapped his hands together. “Well, that’s all settled. Now hop in. I’ll give you two a ride home.”
Stepping back, Henry took another look at the limo with no driver. “Honestly, I’ve had enough magic for one day,” he said.
“Me too,” Keats agreed. “I guess we’ll walk. But thanks anyway, Mr. Cigam.”
The boys said goodbye and walked down the driveway. Mr. Cigam waved out the limo’s window. He called after them, “I’ll let you know if any other odd jobs come up!”
“That’d be great!” Henry called back.
Keats waited until they were on the road. Then he asked, “Would you really take another job with Mr. Cigam, Henry?”
“I told him I’d had enough magic for today,” Henry said. “But there’s always tomorrow!”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BILL DOYLE grew up in Michigan and wrote his first story—a funny whodunit—when he was eight. Since then, he’s written other action-packed books for kids, like Everest: You Decide How to Survive, the Crime Through Time series, and the Behind Enemy Lines series. He lives in New York City with two dachshund-headed dogs.
You can visit him online at billdoyle.net.
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